


Throne of Lies and Blood

by obsessivefangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Assassins, Blood, Fantasy, I like that bit, M/M, Magic, Violence, coloured muscles, stuff like that, theifs, um... competition, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivefangirl/pseuds/obsessivefangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Moran, aged twenty two, is serving a life sentence. He is a trained assassin, the best of his kind, but he made a fatal mistake. He allowed himself to get caught. Now trapped he longs for a way out. So when a hooded figure brings him to the Prince with the promise of freedom he doesn't resist. There's one catch; he has to represent the prince in a cruel competition with other skilled thieves. Either he wins, or he dies. But as time drags on the assassin grows more and more confused about what he actually wants.</p><p>//Rated M for scenes of graphic voilence. There will be scenes of a sexual nature as the story progresses. This is a fantasy!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the amazing May (Sherlockgetsboredeasily.tumblr.com/MayhemBee on AO3)

Sebastian Moran stood in shackles, his head bent down and his back bared to reveal the four large gashes down its sweat slick surface. His skin, tanned a dark brown after his year of manual labour was dripping crimson, and the blue muscles under the skin were just visible. He bit down into his lip as the whip lashed against his naked back, licking the skin before tearing it open. A sharp flare of excruciating pain shot through the assassin, and his hands clenched into fists, the dirt coated, ragged nails of his fingers digging into his calloused palms as he resisted the urge to scream.

His punishment was carried out in silence. The other prisoners watching the young, famed assassin with weary eyes. 

He was the king's example. Now even the great 'Assassin of Byrnalwe' had been captured and tamed, what hope did anyone have?

None. The answer was simple and bitter. The king had taken the land and burned it, destroying the vitality of the once magical land and stripping it down to its bare elements before stealing even that. 

The thought sent spikes of anger through Sebastian. He could still remember the days of his childhood before he'd been abandoned. He could remember the days when witches were free to manipulate the elements without fear of prosecution. Now even the most simple of man lived with a sword hanging over his head, ready to drop at any moment. It didn't matter if he'd done something wrong. 

When the guards came back, grabbing the tall blond assassin by his now feeble arms, though something unusual happened. There was a dark hooded figure standing watching him with a cold expression, her green eyes skipping over the blood covered assassin's body impassively.

Frowning, Sebastian spat at the woman with what little moisture he had in his parched mouth, feeling his lips crack as he did so. The hooded figure took little heed of the young man's actions, merely shaking her head at the guards as they tightened the chains around his ankles with a harsh tug as punishment.

"No." She said simply, her voice calm and authoritative as it broke through the silence of the labour farms. "He'll need to walk."

With that she turned on her heel, barking from short orders to the guards to follow her before walking off ahead of them. Although he didn't say anything, Sebastian's mind was racing, his brows furrowed together in confusion as he was marched off after the hooded woman. He wondered where she was directing them as he was forced through building after building, each new and clean compared to the grime which the assassin had been living in for the last year.

They strode down corridors, up flights of stairs, around and around until he hadn't the slightest hope of finding his way out again. At least he assumed that was his escort's intentions, because he hadn't failed to notice the way they went up and down the same staircase within a matter of minutes. Nor the way they zigzagged between levels despite the clear grid layout of the hallways and stairwells.

As if he would lose his bearings so easily. He might have been offended if the hooded figure and the guards hadn't been trying so hard.

They entered a particularly long hallway, silent except for their footsteps. Though the woman, who had by now shooed away the guards and was leading the emaciated man through the building on her own, was obviously very tall and fit, her arms holding a tensed strength, though Sebastian could see very little of her face. The hood completely obscured her features. He supposed this was another tactic meant to confuse and frighten him. The black clothes were probably part of it too. He glanced sideways towards the woman, flashing her a predatory grin, all teeth. Her grip on his arm tightened, her nails digging into the worn muscles.

Sebastian supposed it was rather flattering that whoever it was that was leading him away was going to so much effort, really. At least he still had his reputation, if not all of his physical strength or likely skills left.

It took another couple of minutes of walking before Sebastian finally found himself standing in front of the great gate of the labour camp, Alytre, and his dull blue eyes brightened with hope. He couldn't see the outside world behind the massive grey wall, but he knew it was there. Waiting for him. Just a finger's breadth away. He could practically taste it, dancing on his skin and wrapping soothingly around him. Freedom.

Growling, he twisted, trying to shake the woman off of his arm as he bared his teeth at her. He could feel his overused muscles aching in protest but he pushed harder, grunting as he kicked back, catching her shin with his bare feet and shoving down. The woman let out a low yelp of pain, pulling back instinctively.

Feeling giddy, and not thinking entirely logically, Sebastian charged forwards, his eyes fixed on the large gate. It wasn't until he stood with his hands pressed against the metal barrier, staring up at its vast size and large bolts that he realised how stupid he'd been.

"Seize him." The woman ordered, her voice losing the edge of calm it had possessed when the assassin had first seen her. When he turned around, the hood was still firmly placed over her face, obscuring the features that Sebastian was growing ever more curious about.

Who was this woman who'd brought him so close to freedom? 

More importantly; what did she want?

The guards grabbed him roughly, yanking him back away from the wall, and shoving him to the ground before aiming a hard kick to his stomach. The blows brought yet more pain coursing through the young assassin’s body and Sebastian finally let out a horrific shriek of agony as his back scraped against the rocks on the dry ground.

Hearing the disapproving voice of the hooded woman, the guards promptly picked him back up with large hands and brutish expressions on their faces. 

Sebastian turned back to glare at the hooded figure, and he wished not for the first time that her face was bared so that he could see how she really felt about all this. The black figure just ignored him though, before turning to his overseer and telling him that she was Head of the Royal Guard. A twist of fear shot through the assassin. The same fear he'd been avoiding for the past year. The same fear that he'd pushed down every day with the same familiar lie, 'I will not be afraid’.

For past year that lie had meant the difference between breaking down in the horror of the labour camp. He wouldn't let the head of guard know that, however. 

The hooded woman came back, grabbing him far more roughly this time, her nails splitting the skin buried beneath layers of dirt. Sebastian bit down into his tongue, not letting her see that she was getting to him as he glanced over her mainly hidden figure. Noticing the finely crafted sword at her side, an intricate snake head on the top, Sebastian's eyes narrowed. Looking down, the woman followed his gaze, before frowning and placing her hand on top of the snake head handle as a form of silent warning.

The message was clear.

A smile tugged at the corners of the Assassin’s lips. 

"You're a long way from Darkhold, Captain." He said, wondering how she would react as he cleared his throat. His voice was rough and scratchy, scraping up from dry, disused throat.

Nothing. The woman didn't react.

"Did you come with the army I heard thumping around the camp earlier?"

Now the woman turned to look at him, and Sebastian tried to look underneath her hood, but her features were still obscured by darkness. A shot of annoyance raced through him.

"What do you care for the armies of Terrasin?" The woman replied, her voice cold and articulate. Sebastian felt a spike of pride at having finally made her speak, and joy at the sound of another voice just as cool as his, harbouring intelligence behind their tongue.

"Nothing." He said, shrugging. The woman's lips were just visible pressing into a tight line underneath her hood. His own lips spread out into a smirk.

He bet it would be nice to see this woman's blood splattered across the dust-covered floor right now. He'd lost his temper once before in the camp. His first overseer had chosen the wrong day to push him too hard. He still remembered the feeling of the shovel digging into the soft flesh of his stomach, and Sebastian's smirk grew into a blood-thirsty grin at the thought. He wondered if this Head of the Guards would fare any better. She might provide a tantalising challenge.

"Don't look at me like that." The woman warned, her grip tightening on the snake head sword as the large gateway was finally opened.

Sebastian's mouth fell open, and his light blue eyes widened in disbelief. Surely they weren't actually letting him free? No, of course not. Yet the door was open. He was so close. Just a couple of steps away.

"What do you want from me?" He asked after a brief pause, trying to hide the shaking in his voice.

"The prince has demanded an audience with you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the amazing May (Sherlockgetsboredeasily.tumblr.com/MayhemBee on AO3)

It took several days of travelling, escorted by an entourage of highly armed guards and the still-hooded figure of the Head of the Royal Guard, before the assassin finally arrived at the castle entrance. As he rode through the city, still covered in grime with his wrists held loosely together with handcuffs, several people stopped to stare at the passing troop of royal horses. The guards were dressed grandly, their golden armour shimmering in the blazing heat of the sun, and even the dark figure riding at the front had a certain regal air to her posture, and what little was on display was adorned with precious jewels. Sebastian on the other hand looked filthy, his tattered rags hanging off his abused body.

He kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead of him, trying avoid the curious gazes and whispers of the residents. He had lost too much already to allow these strangers to steal what little pride he had in himself. 

The gates opened with a loud groan and soon the captured assassin was being helped down from his horse with invasive hands grabbing at his feeble body. Then the they lead him through the decadent palace, past the luscious gardens and vast grounds. Reaching out, Sebastian pressed his thumb against one of the pure red roses, letting its sharp spikes prick the soft flesh and smiling at the thin trickle of red. 

When he finally arrived at the large golden double door, Sebastian's eyes widened in shock. The frame was crawling with creatures which were apparently made out of molten gold, they twisted amongst each other, their fangs bared and claws digging into one another. It was the most beautiful carving he had ever seen, each expression filled with a human violence that seemed so strange on the animal's faces. 

"In there." The woman commanded, glaring at the assassin before motioning towards two of the guards to open the grand doorway. 

Inside, the room was filled with splendour beyond anything the young assassin had ever seen before in his life. A glass chandelier shaped like a web covered the entire ceiling, showering the room in diamond’s fire that struck the large windows lining the far wall. Out of the window acres of land could be seen, then beyond that the grey of the entire kingdom spanned out in front of Sebastian's eyes. Compared to the bleakness out of that window, the opulence of the room just seemed like an insult.

Pushed forwards into the room, Sebastian stumbled, swallowing as he looked back. There were five more guards flanking him. Then, looking forwards, he saw a cluster of them surrounding a seated figure. Each guard had the golden royal emblem on their shirts. Members of the royal guard; each highly trained, ruthless, swift soldiers trained to kill on command without a second thought. 

At least he thought about which targets he was going to take, unlike them. Still, in his current state they could easily overcome him so he didn't say a word.

Seated in the throne was a handsome young man, his face pale allowing Sebastian to see the regal purple muscles tinting his skin. His eyes were a deep purple to match, and his rouge lips pressed together expectantly as he looked down on the fallen assassin. 

However despite knowing that his attention should be captured by the prince sitting before him, Sebastian's wide eyes were directed at the small hunched over form of a boy. He couldn't be any older than seventeen, his figure lithe and his large dark hate filled eyes fixed determinedly ahead of him. The features of his face were refined and delicate, yet the boy did not look fragile. He looked terrifying. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and the colours dancing over his near translucent skin made him appear almost celestial. 

Most people's muscles were the same colour as their eyes; either blue, green, purple, red or black. This boy, however, seemed to pulse with colour, the muscles of his thin arms clearly twisting shades of blacks and reds. 

Blinking, Sebastian's mouth fell open.

He was beautiful.

"Your Highness," Said the Captain of the Guard. She straightened from a low bow and removed her hood, revealing short red hair and a scarred face. The hood had definitely been meant to intimidate him during their journey, and Sebastian was ashamed to admit that it had worked a little bit. She was so young! Probably in her early twenties, just like him.

The Captain was not traditionally attractive, her body too muscular to be seen as feminine, and her face too hard after years of bloodshed, but Sebastian couldn't help find something attractive in her green eyes.

"Captain Hayes," The prince replied formally, "Is this him?"

Sebastian's head whipped around to focus on the Captain again as the young woman nodded. Both the prince and Captain Hayes stood still, waiting for the assassin to bend down into a bow. When she remained upright, the Captain shifted uncomfortably and the Prince raised his chin.

As if he would bow to him! If Sebastian was going to die then he was going to do so with honour and pride. He would not spend his last moments grovelling to the son of the man who had robbed the land of its vitality.

The silence stretched and continued as everyone waited expectantly, several of the guards looking at the assassin with blood thirsty eyes. They were just waiting for the command to force him to submit and bow to the prince.

Then suddenly the sound of sharp, shrill laughter cut through the quiet. Starting, Sebastian looked over at the source of the noise, his light blue eyes locking onto the manically amused ones of the strange teenager.

"Our dear prince isn't used to insubordination." The boy said teasingly, looking across at Sebastian with a wicked curve of his lips. His eyes seemed to flicker with a secret and he turned back to the prince, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Are you?" 

The prince's expression darkened momentarily, then the anger cleared and turned around to his guards. "I'm done with him. Take him to his chambers, and don't let him out again until I personally give you orders to."

Sebastian watched with dry lips several of the guards dragging the boy up before forcing him out of the room. It was amazing that someone so small could look so triumphant even as he was locked away.

Despite himself, the fallen assassin hoped that he would see the teenager again. There was something intoxicating about the boy's presence.

"I don't think we've ever had the pleasure of an introduction." The prince said with a polished smile, as his eyes ran down Sebastian's dirty form. "But, as I'm sure you are already aware, I am William Zuviard, Crown Prince of Byrnalwe. And you're Sebastian Moran, Byrnalwe's greatest assassin." He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his thighs as he raised his eyebrows at Sebastian. "You look a little young, I must admit. I thought you'd be elder. Oh well. Tell me, how are you finding Darkhold after living in such excess at Lywelen?"

Sebastian resisted the urge to growl, and instead smiled insincerely up at the prince, baring all of his teeth. "I couldn't be happier." He spat out, wishing that the prince would just hurry up and tell him whatever it was that needed to be said.

"I've heard some very interesting tales about you, Sebastian." The prince continued, "You've been in Lywelen for the past year, right? Yet you're still alive, just. Amazing."

The assassin shrugged. "Yeah, amazing." He repeated coldly. "What do you fucking want with me?"

"Your Highness." Captain Hayes suddenly interjected.

"Excuse me?" Sebastian asked, turning to the Captain slightly confused.

"You address the prince as 'Your Highness'."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sebastian said with a mocking smile, his voiced coated in sarcasm. "What do you fucking want with me, your Highness?"

The men exchanged glances, and then the prince leaned back in his chair. His expression was one of faux nonchalance, and Sebastian watched him with narrowed eyes. "I have a proposition for you, Moran."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm trying out a completely new universe so I really hope that you like it. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Currently unbeta'd.

Sebastian left the royal throne room with his heart pounding hard against his rib cage and one word ringing in his mind. Freedom. He could barely believe that he'd been offered it at such a low price. All he had to do was compete in some stupid competition, win and then he'd be the Prince's personal guard, finally free from the torment of the prison Lywelen. Of course if he failed he'd pay the price with his life. But he didn't need to worry about that. Or at least that's what Sebastian kept telling himself.

He was shown to his room by the Captain of the Royal Guard, who looked less than pleased to be escorting a low life killer like him, and it seemed to take forever, winding through never ending passages and hallways before he finally stopped before an aged looking wooden door.

"This is your room." Captain Hayes said simply, her lips pressed into a tight line as she looked the shackled killer over. "I'll be waiting to escort you downstairs at 6 am sharp for your personal training before the start of the competition next week. Make sure that you're dressed and ready or I'll ensure that you have a couple more scars."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, even less pleased than she was to be forced to spend time with the hard faced women. Still it was worth the price to finally have a shot at freedom - even if the freedom was technically conditional.

When Captain Hayes leaned down, fishing out a dull iron key from her pocket with a reluctant expression, Sebastian suppressed the urge to grin in triumphant. When the key was pushed into the lock of his handcuffs, twisting and clicking into place before the shackles fell away, Sebastian couldn't help the excited chuckled that escaped his lips. Spreading his fingers apart Sebastian felt a pleasant stretch in his hand. Ah. It was nice to finally be able to use his hands again.

Turning to wink at Captain Hayes, letting his eyes travel across her body just to make her feel uncomfortable, Sebastian pushed the door to his room open. Or at least tried to. But the bloody thing was locked. Of course. He should have seen that one coming. Growling in frustration he turned back to Captain Hayes, his gaze unapologetic and hard as he held his hand out.

"I'll need the key. Now." He said pointedly.

Captain Hayes merely grinned, standing entirely still and shrugging. There was a glint of amusement in her green eyes. "I guess you'll just have to start acting like a gentle man and say 'please' before I let you have the key."

Sebastian grit his teeth, glaring across at her for a couple of seconds before his resolve broke. "Fine. PLEASE can I have the fucking key to my room?" He said in an artificially sweet voice with a long drawn out sigh of irritation.

Pulling the key out of other pocket the Captain smirked, clearly pleased with her small triumph. "Of course you can, Moran. Thank you for asking so nicely."

With that she threw the keys at him (which Sebastian caught with practiced ease) and turned on her heel, stalking down the corridor with a decidedly masculine walk that make Sebastian grin nastily. What a bitch. He bet she didn't exactly get laid very often.

Quickly unlocking the door, Sebastian half fell into his new room, his posture slumped over with a tiredness that he hadn't even fully understood that he felt. He looked about, impressed. It was large, not as grand as the throne room downstairs but that was too be expected. A ornate light hung from the ceiling, the candle obscured by beautiful crystals that threw light across the room. The bed was a double, which made Sebastian smirk, big enough for him to have a guest over. Apart from a cupboard and a door leading to an attached bathroom however there was no other furniture. Perhaps this had been a room to host aristocratic guests but it had clearly been downgraded before allowing the criminal to step through the open doorway.

His mind immediately jumped to the beautiful teenager. Would he be staying in a room like this? Where was he?

Sebastian sighed, forcing himself to think of other things.

Sebastian slept well that night, untroubled by thoughts of the other prison inmates or the men patrolling the cells, and woke to light streaming through his large open windows. He groaned trying to hid his face in the pillow again before his sleepy mind reminded him of the Captain's warning. He didn't particularly want the bitch to come in and wake him up. Although it would be hilarious to see her face as he turned over and she was faced with the whole of his entirely nude body. She'd probably faint. Or not, Sebastian thought on further consideration, she seemed pretty tough.

So he pulled himself out of bed, covering his face with his hands to shield himself from the rays attacking him through the windows. Bloody sunlight. With a tired expression he stumbled about his bedroom as he tried to find something to wear. He didn't really want to wear the prison rags he'd arrived in after all. When he opened up the wardrobe he was faced with lines of clothes, painting the dull room with a rainbow of colours.

He got dressed in a hurry, not particular caring whether or not the trousers matched his shirt, before he hurried towards the door. He paused as he passed the mirror though, his eyes widening slightly. He really was a wreck. His frame used to be strong and muscular, a sight to make any women and many men drool, but now he just looked worn out. His eyes were sunken in and under them were deep purple rings. His cheeks were pulled taunt across his teeth, giving him a sharp almost hollow look. Although Sebastian knew that he'd look fine again with just a little bit of exercise and quite a lot of food the sight still made him sick. He used to be a god. Now he was just a fragile looking man. How the hell was he going to compete like this?

Setting out of his room with a new determination Sebastian looked around for the Captain with a fierce expression. He was going to work until he passed out if he had to. He wasn't going to compete looking like he did. He was going to be back to his old, unbeatable self by the time the competition started and he was going to destroy his opponents. People would know he was powerful just by glancing at him.

He wasn't going to risk seeing that beautiful teenager again looking like a mess. He was going to give the teenager something to stare back at him for.


End file.
